Longing for freedom
by The road to hell is paved
Summary: After the attack on Godric's Hollow. little Harry was taken to the Department of Mysteries to oncover why he survived, But what is realy going on beneath the ministerie of magic. And what doen the DOM realy do.
1. prologue

**Chapter 1**** prologue**

He was waiting. He was always waiting: Waiting for the lights to be turned on, waiting for the heavy footsteps that followed, waiting for the hatch in the door to slide open and a tray to be slid in, waiting for the door to the bathroom to unlock, waiting for lunch and dinner, waiting for the men in grey, waiting for their probing, needles and questions, waiting for them to leave again and finally waiting for the lights to be turned off again and to go to sleep.

He hated waiting and he especially hated the men in grey. The men in grey where always completely covered, there hoods covering their faces and their gloves covering their hands. They never spoke, not to him and not to each other. He sometimes saw them make small hand gestures or even shake their head to their companions but even those were rare.

They where his only contact with anything outside his room. They were the only reason he could think there was anything beyond the things around him, they came from outside. From beyond the heavy steel door that separated him from there world.

They often hurt him. Their needles sucked his blood and their gloved hands left painful bruises where they touched him and their strange contraptions left him sore, but no matter what they did to him, no matter how much he hurt he would always be fine again in the morning. The bruises and wounds would have disappeared and he would feel strangely happy the moment he woke up.

One time the hooded men accidentally left a feather in his room. He quickly went to pick up the feather and his hands softly stroke it feeling awe for the softness it possessed.

He was completely focused upon the feather wondering what created such a strange thing. He didn't hear the door slide open and he didn't notice one of the grey men walking in until he pointed his stick at the feather and it turned into ashes before his eyes.


	2. A shred of humanity

**Chapter 2: a shred of humanity**

The lights were already long turned of, the only thing that could be seen through the darkness were a pair of emerald green eyes staring into what could be believed to be the door.

If a person would look into the eyes they would see nothing. They would feel compelled to look for a shred of humanity in the child to proof to themselves that the person before them was even alive, but they would not see happiness or sorrow, nor fear and nor joy. They own eyes would widen in shock and only then would they understand.

The weaker amongst them would detach their eyes in horror and cry. While the stronger would try to help carry his burdens only to crumble under their weight.

But there was no-one in his room and there would never be.

Slowly the boy started to blink his eyes. He understood now why the feather was gone. He had closed himself of from everything and even himself to comprehend and now he did.

The feather had burned!

He looked down on his hands and found them blistered and red. Did the thing that burned the feather also burn his hands? Another realization popped up.

The thing was dangerous!

The soft tapping of shoes was heard. His eyes widened in shock and he scurried under the sheets.

As soon as the footsteps vanished he fell into a deep sleep. His last thoughts were with his hands but as always they would be fine in the morning.


	3. Number R122514

**Chapter 3: number R122514**

As usual the boy was sitting on his bed and as usual his hands were blister free and regained their normal pink color. Unusual was the book lying in front of him.

***

Flashback

He woke up and started refolding his sheets like the voice coming from nowhere had instructed him to do years ago. After that done the door to the bathroom soundlessly slid open. He showered in the cool water that emerged from the sealing after he stepped in and got dressed in the white uniform that neatly lay ready.

He didn't know what happened to the clothes from the previous day, they just disappeared.

On each uniform where the numbers 122514 stitched onto the top right side of his chest. But today the letter R was placed before it.

He remerged from the bathroom to find a book lying exactly in the middle of the room. From the moment he spotted it he froze. The book was black and didn't have a title and it looked thick.

Cautiously he approached the book. With each step he anticipated the door to slid open and one of the men in grey to come in and burn the book. He took the book firmly in his hands and waited for it to disappear.

He waited and waited and still the book was there. After sitting on the bed he placed the book in front of him and stared.

End Flashback

***

Good morning recruit 122514.

Jumping of the bed he looked around for the source of the sound. Of course he found none, it was the voice out of nowhere. Timidly he asked: "Who are you?"

You will address me as sir.

Yes sir.

Speak up recruit!

Yes sir!

Better. Today you have turned old enough to begin your training. From now on you will be collected every morning, you will do exactly what they say and you will answer only when spoken to. Is that understood!?

Yes sir!

Now you will read that book completely before tomorrow.

Stand down recruit 122514!

It was silent again in the room.


	4. Theory of Magic

**Chapter 4: Theory of Magic**

**Myrddin Wyllt** is a figure in medieval Welsh legend, known as a prophet and a madman. He is the most important prototype for the modern composite image of Merlin.

It was already after the time that the lights would be turned off, but strangely tonight was an exception. He wondered if they left the lights burning so he could continue to read.

The book was exceptionally difficult. The pages were yellow from age making the ink fade over time and to frustrate the reader even more: the entire book was written in tiny letters.

To summarize; he was struggling.

Of course he didn't know that in the outside world it was rather impossible for a small child of his age to be able to read without anybody ever teaching him and ridiculous to ask a child his age to read a book that was 500 pages thick and was written for an adult. But these things were unknown to the small boy sitting on his bed reading a book he could hardly lift.

In beautiful drawn letters on the first page stood: Theory of Magic written by Myrddin Wyllt.

The book spoke of many kinds of magic; from normal wizards magic to the ancient magic of the grand elves. It spoke of how a wand could be used to teach small children to practice magic, and the dangers of time travel and the theory to travel to other dimensions. It explained how a magical core functioned and what could harm and heal ones core.

Most people would be shocked to learn that there really was such a thing as magic but for a boy who never got to hear fairy tales and thus believe later in life they were just that; fairy tales, he accepted all he read as facts and didn't have to go true the whole idea of magic isn't real.

When he realized that is was long past light of time, he was reading the chapter that spoke of producing what you want to do without using spells but instead focusing on you're will to make magic do what you want it to do

He reread that chapter to make sure he absorbed all the information for later use.

It was just before he heard the footsteps that he finished the last page.


	5. Lowest of the low

**Chapter 5: Lowest of the low**

The door slid open revealing a young man around 16. He was wearing a purple robe which left his face uncovered.

Remembering the proper greetings to a superior from the book, he made a low bow that made him look directly at the floor in front of his shoes. He remained bent over until he felt a small tap on his shoulder giving him permission to rise.

The young man smiled at him and made a hand gesture to follow. To his surprise and sadness the purple robe entered his room and went to sit at a chair that popped up out of no were.

Facing the man on the chair he seated himself on his bed.

After a moment of silence the man spoke:" To my superiors I am known as T435652 but you may address me as Tobias."

I have been send here to make you understand what is to be expected from you.

First of all you must understand that you are scum, you're less than the dirt beneath my feet, you are the lowest of the low, you are a recruit.

As you can see from the T before my code I am a trainee and therefore you're superior.

From now on you'll be wearing the yellow colour of a recruit, as you prove yourself to be more then the snivelling worm that you are now you will be able to rise in rank.

Thehierarchy is as followed: down the bottom are yellows such as yourself, then there are the oranges and the reds; all three are considered recruits.

The purples such as myself, the blues and the greens are trainees.

When and if you reach grey you will be considered fully trained.

And last there are the black robes, they are the masters, whenever a black wishes to speak to you, you will kneel with one leg down and keep your eyes at the ground at all times.

Your real training will begin tomorrow. With those words Tobias strode out the door.

When he turned around he found a desk and a bookshelf against the walls which where bare before.


	6. Steel Grey Eyes

**Chapter 6: Steel grey eyes.**

Walking to his first training session being accompanied by a red and wearing his yellow training suit, recruit 122514 was soon to discover that the life of a slave working in an ore mine was better than being a recruit.

The red stopped in front of what appeared to be a blank wall and spoke in a clear voice: "recruits make great punching bags", making a part of the wall slide aside.

After stepping away from the entrance and pushing the new recruit inside, the red made a hasty retreat.

Before R122514 got the chance to think about what red could have been so afraid off to practically run away a forceful hand grabbed him by his collar and dragged him to the middle of the room. There he was inelegantly dropped on his bum.

Scrambling up his eyes were locked on a pair of steel grey ones boring what felt like right into his soul seeing every weakness.

Seemingly satisfied the steel eyes released him. His eyes free again he examined the lady before him. She was tall and slim and had long blond hair that was braided together and reached below her waist and her high cheek bones complimented her face.

She was wearing a white shirt and a pair of loose fitting black pants that were tucked in black boots that seemed to be made off scales.

All in all she made a fearful looking opponent.

They were standing in what innocently looked like a small gym room.

You will address me as master Hebsiba, I'll be teaching you the martial arts to train you're body and you're spirit. When I deem you ready I'll also be teaching you swordsmanship.

Yes Master Hebsiba.

With those words she smiled viciously at him.

4 hours and 30 minutes later he was allowed to pas out.

The same pattern was continued throughout the following weeks. He was collected from his rooms by a red who led him to a bare wall and after speaking the password he was pushed in.

The password became more gruesome every few days. 3 days in his training it became "Why use punching bags if you have recruits". Followed by "If you don't bleed I'm doing something wrong." And his all around favorite: "My granny can punch me harder than you."

After those encouraging words the beatings, I mean training began.

Mostly the sessions ended if he broke a bone, after that a yellow liquid was forced down his throat and quickly thereafter he passed out.

The next morning he woke up fit and healed and the process was repeated.


	7. interlude 1

**Interlude 1**

Six months into his training he was able to finish practice without breaking any bones and he was able to walk back to his rooms where he passed out on his bed.

Master Hebsiba proved herself to be a strong and cruel teacher that had a few sadistic traits. She pushed her pupils to the point of breaking and when broken she tossed them away as weak. Those who survived learned to obey without questions, avoid her wrath at any cost and kill without mercy.

They were bound to be emotionless killing machines that were absolutely loyal.

But sucking the feelings out as they called it was only applied to pupils above the age of eleven. It was believed that depriving one of emotions before that made the subject mentally unstable and was more likely to go mad and get themselves killed then shedding tears. However the age limit didn't apply to training one to kill and of course avoid being killed.

From the moment a child was around the age of four they were mercilessly trained to fight. Those that proved unsuited for fighting were transferred to tasks that better suited them or were disposed of. The pupils that were transferred were very few in number.

You may ask yourself why there relatives let this happen, well the answer is simple: most didn't have any and were plucked of the streets and others were freely given to the department and with that they gave up on all rights to their child. Even if they were able to locate their child they wouldn't be able to fight for it. The future recruits are tied to the department by law and body.

Not all the children that were "adopted" by the department are magical. Those that possess magic were stripped from the ministries records and those that were given or taken from the muggle world are obliviated along with their families and all those that might have known them. Officially these children do not exist.

Non magical recruits are used in the muggle world. They are strategically placed: they became politicians, bankers and judges. Each and every one totally loyal and obedient to the department. Their network of robots and spy's slowly gaining more power and wealth for the department.

Those that did possess magic came in varied degrees depending on the strength of their magic. There are three standerts; on a scale from 1/100. Those below 35 are weak wizards who completely depend on wand to preform magic, these are the majority of the recruits and can be compared to 60% of the wizerding population. Those between 35 and 70 are strong wizards and depending on their level are able of small feats of wandless magic. Those above 70 have no need for a wand after being fully trained and often use a staff if in need of a focus.

Then there are those exceptionally powerful wizards who score above 100.


	8. A deadly dance

**Chapter 7: A deadly dance. **

Slowly the months crept by and our young recruit became stronger every day thanks to the bitter lessons of Master Hebsiba. He became very agile so he could dodge any blow that was thrown at him, blocking his teachers attack still proved too much for the frail boy but his small form proved useful when jumping and rolling away. He could stand his own against the monster as he started calling Master Hebsiba in his head. Of course he couldn't defeat her, but he could land his punches. She didn't show it but he knew some of them must have hurt.

The months turned into years and according to his calculations he would soon be turning six.

On the day he started calling his year aging Master Hebsiba presented him with a stick and without warning she shouted:" defend yourself" while coming at him with her own stick in hand.

The lesson ended with his stick being broken in two and blue burses that covered most of his body.

------------------------------------------

He woke up in his own room. Looking around he noticed something wrong. Everything seemed brighter and clearer and why wasn't he being beaten up by master Hebsiba.

A while ago he noticed that his eyesight seemed to be deteriorating but everything even seemed more focused than before that. He could see a small beetle like bug crawling on the bookshelf across the room in perfect detail. If he focused he could even hear the prattle of its legs against the wood.

He got up from his bed and walked to the bookshelf. He could definitely hear the beetle now. Hearing the bug unfolding its wings he quickly snatched it out of the air carefully not to cripple the bug.

Greens, deep reds and bright blues covered its shell twirling together and breaking apart.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

With acing heart he let go of the struggling bug and followed its path up in the air and thru a small shaft opening in the ceiling.

-------------------------------------------

In the following months he learned that his eyesight was not the only thing that improved. He was much stronger and he seemed to develop a sixth sense for danger enabling him to foresee the brutal attacks from his teacher. He became faster and his stamina drastically improved. The monster took full advantage of his new abilities to make him work even harder.

After tree months of stick fighting Master Hebsibe found him ready to begin sword fighting but at the same time he was expected to keep improving his other techniques.

This forced him to continue his training while in his room.

With his wooden sword he practiced the routine over and over again. At first he was clumsy but as his skill improved it became a fluid and deadly dance.

It took him five months to fully grasp the basic techniques enabling him to have paring sessions with a real sword.

From now on the paring sessions became fights for survival. A wrong move could end him op with fatal wounds.

More then once he was gashed open and forced to drink icky potions to survive. Small wounds were left unattended but they healed in his sleep.

As his night birthday approached he was already a fighter.


End file.
